


Solstice Fire

by allthebeautifulthings9828



Series: Destiel Smut Brigade Summer Challenge Fic Dump [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Bisexual Dean, Bottom Dean, Castiel Has Powers, Castiel Has a Cat, Castiel Loves Dean, Castiel and Dean in Love, Dean Loves Castiel, Destiel Smut Brigade, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Explicit Sexual Content, Familiars, Hand Jobs, Kissing, Love, M/M, Magic, Masturbation, Mechanic Dean, Nature, Nature Magic, Oral Sex, POV Dean Winchester, Porn, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Ritual Sex, Rituals, Romance, Sex Magic, Smut, Solstice, Spells & Enchantments, Summer, Summer Love, Summer Romance, Summer Solstice, Top Castiel, Walks In The Woods, Wilderness, Witch Castiel, Witchcraft, destiel au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-02
Updated: 2015-07-02
Packaged: 2018-04-06 22:35:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4239171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allthebeautifulthings9828/pseuds/allthebeautifulthings9828
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Dean began dating Castiel after fixing his car, he knew the rumors. That Castiel, they said, was a witch. He never put much stock in it but as they grew closer, it turned out to not only be true but a secret given in trust and received in fierce protectiveness. Even though they're happy together, Dean still can't let go of his fears enough to come out and let their little town see his bisexuality. Castiel offers to help him fortify his confidence in both his sexuality and their relationship with a ritual done during the summer solstice, which is, apparently, pretty important to him as a witch. Just what that solstice ritual entails makes Dean wonder if there's something real in magic after all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Solstice Fire

**Author's Note:**

> If you like this story after you read it, you can read the next part in another collection at http://archiveofourown.org/works/4947277

Not once did Castiel stumble. Following a few paces behind, Dean sometimes got a boot stuck on a tree root or a hidden hole in the ground, all while Castiel plodded along, gracefully thumping his walking stick every few feet.

And ahead of him, Hera wound her way through the foliage and rocks like a liquid streak of tabby fur in rich browns, reds, and blacks. Dean snickered under his breath when he realized a pair of intelligent, reasonable human men let a cat lead them through the Kansas woods near the Missouri border. Hera was no ordinary cat, Castiel would say if he heard Dean's thoughts. She was his familiar. Not only that but Dean should respect said familiar.

It took eight months of dating but Dean thought he finally had a grip on being in love with a witch. When they started going out after Castiel brought his car to Bobby Singer's garage to be fixed, Dean knew the rumors. Small towns like theirs lived and thrived on gossip. That Castiel, they said, was a witch. Dean had never put much stock in it but as they grew closer, it turned out to not only be true but a secret given in trust and received in fierce protectiveness. He hated the way people gossiped about his boyfriend but, much to his own personal weakness, he rarely worked up the guts to defend him. That meant letting everyone in Valley Falls know he was bisexual.

"Love, this ritual depends on your openness to it," said Castiel up ahead.

"How'd you--"

"--I feel you growing fearful loud and clear. You can trust me, Dean."

He passed between a pair of thin trees and drew in closer for his question. "You sure this is gonna work? A little fire, some hocus pocus, and I'll feel better about being bi?"

Castiel smiled out of the corner of his mouth. "All magick is effective if the people conducting the energy are willing to accept its power."

"Uh-huh," replied Dean thoughtfully, hoping to hide his skepticism.

They walked further into the wilderness, Hera leading the way. If she got too far ahead, they spotted her by the brushy, long-haired tail curling and flipping through the foliage like a flag for them to follow. Deeper in the woods they hiked, sunlight darkened as the trees clumped closer and closer together, creating a canopy barrier against the blue sky. Dean fell into silence again and asked himself why he agreed to Castiel performing the ritual on him. Even so, he didn't think any harm would come of it. If it worked, he'd feel more comfortable in his own skin. If it didn't work--well--at least he would get laid in the woods. That sounded thrilling in itself but he still didn't understand how sex figured into magick.

Dean realized an important fact as he puzzled it out in his thoughts. Regardless of the outcome, he did trust Castiel completely. That had to mean something shifted in him, some immovable stone scraping away from another just a fraction of an inch.

A clearing suddenly opened before them and Castiel made his way through a natural doorway through the trees as if he'd been there many times in the past. So did his cat--sorry--his familiar. Hera seemed to have an extra bounce in her step as she trotted over the field pressed down by footfalls to a circle formation made of fist-sized rocks. Remnants of old fires sat in the center, which the feline sniffed at and continued her inspection while Castiel dropped a bulky canvas bag from his shoulder on the ground. He momentarily stooped to run a hand over Hera's long, sleek coak, making her preen and meow for him.

"Go hunting, darling," he told the cat. "We'll be okay."

Released from her responsibilities, it seemed, Hera happily darted into the woods.

"Will she come back?" Dean asked, lingering near the treeline in uncertainty.

Castiel flashed a grin at him and shrugged as if he found the question humorous. "A familiar without a witch is a strange idea. Don't you think?" He approached Dean and, grasping his hands, left a sweet peck on his lips. "She keeps an eye out for people and predators. It's fine. Come on. Don't be afraid. It'll be night soon."

"I'm not afraid," retorted Dean indignantly.

Another knowing smile got tossed his way. He decided if he really did trust Castiel, then he needed to act like it, so he made himself useful. He may not have been a witch but he was a camper, so he knew his fires. The old, charred remainders of logs needed clearing away, which he did in the oppressive late afternoon heat. Eventually he gave up on personal dignity and stripped out of his t-shirt before he died of sweat. He expected a sunburn on his Irish skin depending on how long the sun had left to burn that day.

He observed Castiel going about his work setting up white pillar candles every few feet around the perimeter of the circle. Careless dark hair seemed charming because Dean knew he routinely forgot about his appearance in favor of working out spiritual matters every day. His mind never quit moving, even as he planted those candles in the ground and went about other mundane tasks. Dean found Castiel's quick, intelligent mind both challenging and attractive because that witch said he saw the same qualities in him, a simple mechanic. That was how Dean saw himself--simple and skilled in a few things that mattered, yet Castiel encouraged him to tap into his unknown powers. It took him a while to understand what that meant but he wanted to be as attractive to Castiel as Castiel was to him.

As a blanket of darkness pulled itself over their hidden spot, Castiel moved from candle to candle with a box of matches. Lighters, he said, were disrespectful to the element of fire. Having stacked new logs in a bonfire formation, Dean waited outside of the circle that he instinctively understood was sacred to his boyfriend.

Soon a stunning glow of candlelight illuminated the clearing in a circle wide enough to hold two dozen people. It was just the two of them though and, Dean reflected with a smile only for himself, an unexplained coolness, a calm wafted through the clearing. Instead of anxiety, he began wondering at the sensation of anticipation, realizing that yes, he was interested and privileged to be part of Castiel's solstice ritual. It meant Castiel really trusted him too. Linked by that trust, they understood each other without saying a thing more often than not.

Once Castiel placed colored stones at four points in the circle, which Dean eventually realized corresponded with the cardinal directions, he came closer and took Dean's hand. "Ready?" he asked kindly.

"I dunno, to be honest," Dean replied with a stiff laugh.

"Have I ever hurt you?"

"No."

"Why would I start now?" As he spoke, he guided Dean to the edge of the circle and, pausing, he began to peel off his shirt. "Off with your clothes, love."

"Oh, now?" Dean's hands moved toward the button of his jeans.

"It's best in cases like this where we control energy with the act of lovemaking to approach the sacred space free of all barriers." One by one, articles of Castiel's clothing dropped into a pile just outside of the circle. Long lines of muscle and strong legs offered the impression of an athletic man casual observers might not have expected.

Dean felt a bit awkward. "Sex magick is a real thing, huh?"

"Of course," Castiel replied. "Sex taps into the rawest form of energy. I want you to direct your desired outcome to the moment you climax. The burst of energy will complete the spell."

"Okay. Hope I can do it."

The witch leaned in and kissed the rounded part of Dean's shoulder. "You can. I'm here with you. It's just us."

It wasn't romantic or sensual, taking off their clothes, and a few doubts crept through Dean. They were supposed to make love before a sacred solstice fire but he had no idea how he was supposed to perform under such clinical conditions. Sex magick, he decided as he dropped his boxers on the ground, was probably going to end up as tedious as all the religious rituals that turned him away from church years ago. He cast a sidelong glance at the hard lines and rich tones of Castiel's skin in the candlelight. It was true. Dean did love him even if he wasn't sure about the proceedings.

A smooth, reverent expression fell over the witch's face as he stepped into the circle. As Dean followed, he enjoyed the light curling up the back of his thighs, over his round bum, and touched here and there along his back muscles.

Holding his arms high over his head, Castiel clutched one of the long matches in one hand, and in the other, what looked to Dean like a stick decorated with a velvet ribbon and a crystal at one end. A wand, he guessed. Although he knew quite a bit about Castiel's faith--okay, maybe faith wasn't the right word--he hadn't actually watched many of his rituals. He was thinking too much. Shut down the commentary! He shuffled on his naked feet and glanced down at the white quilted blanket spread on the ground. That was the stage where the deed would be done. A fluttering nervousness gripped his belly.

Castiel's murmuring voice brought him back to the moment. "Upon this solstice eve, we cast this sacred circle for protection and to honor those who walked before us. We invite the elements to join our work tonight. Humble and filled with your honor, we ask for the Earth of the West, the Air of the North, the Water of the South, and the Fire of the East to bless this circle and those who dwell within. May the god and goddess shine their love and blessings over us."

It was timed like a movie. Lightning flickered over the horizon along with a low, gentle rumble, drawing Dean's eyes to the sky. It didn't look like a storm coming. He wrote it off as simple heat lightning and heat thunder as long as Castiel didn't reach to it.

The match clutched in his left hand, pointed skyward, sparked and drew Dean's attention. He nearly took a step backwards into a lit candle as the impossible notion settled in his brain. Castiel hadn't struck the match on the side of the box. The flame burst into life on its own, perfectly timed with the end of his calling on the elements and deities to help them. It was impossible, yet there was the flame dancing and flickering against the velvety black sky. It took everything Dean had not to open his mouth and spout a stream of worried vulgarity, but the lack of reaction in Castiel told him it was intended to happen. He swallowed hard, ordering himself to pull it together. Of course he knew Castiel was a witch but he hadn't expected displays of unexpected power. Maybe there was something to his confidence after all.

Castiel resumed murmuring but Dean couldn't understand it. He tipped forward just slightly, though it didn't help. It sounded like a foreign language--something ancient, something dead. The witch flicked the match onto the log pile and it roared in such a small blink of a second that nothing about it seemed natural. After watching the match light itself, feeling the explosion of heat radiate past Dean's body didn't seem as much of a shock.

Momentary calm, like sitting in the eye of a hurricane, abruptly swept up into fear of the unknown again as Castiel turned and faced Dean, the crystal-topped wand gripped at his side. He glowed. Goddamn it, he glowed from within so intensely that the ordinary blue in his eyes shined like lights.

Dean tried talking himself out of what his eyes perceived, explaining it away as the rippling flames burning the woodpile behind him. His physical silhouette should have cut a black column before a fire of that size but the inner glow ignited his features. It frightened Dean but he couldn't turn away. Exhilaration outweighed his fear. Blood pumped through his body hard enough that he heard it rushing through his ears and he fought the urge to reach out and touch the witch. He just knew Castiel would feel hot under his fingertips. The possibilities enticed him just as much as the initial fear did.

Lower his eyes dropped, attracted by the firelight reflecting off of something. He squinted as a faint wave of smoke blew his way. It had only been a couple of minutes but Castiel stood as strongly erect as Dean had ever seen him, even during their most intense encounters. He never made an attempt to hide it there, nor did he touch himself as he was prone to do when the mood hit him, which led Dean to believe that appendage jutting out from his pelvis was part of the ritual setup. Dean didn't know whether to drop to his knees and get the show on the road or give Castiel, looking like some ethereal being, a reverent bow. So he just licked his dry lips and lifted his gaze to the glowing blue embers of Castiel's eyes instead.

"You may stop this at any time," Castiel said in a shockingly quiet, normal voice as if he soothed Dean despite the inhuman light pouring through him. "Magick only works for those who want it. Nothing in me will ever make you do anything you don't want to do. No witch of integrity ever would."

That put Dean at ease. Maybe it was the touchstone of normality in Castiel's voice or maybe it was what he said, establishing Dean's choice in the matter. He never thought he'd be forced into it, of course, and he would fight off anyone assaulting him. That gathering of unseen elements and energies helping Castiel along wasn't meant to hurt him and he knew it. It was meant to draw Dean closer to his inner self, to draw him into confidence, and by proxy, draw him closer to that glowing creature before him.

"How do we do this?" Dean asked, resolute in his choice.

A little smile twitched Castiel's lips. "Close your eyes, love. The goddess is with us. Open yourself to her help through the sacred elements."

Although Dean complied and let his eyelids fall shut, he wasn't sure how he was supposed to go about opening himself to a goddess he'd never known but he tried stilling his inner thoughts. Golden haze bled through the darkness with the bonfire crackling just behind Castiel and he found that easy to give his focus. There was something warm and beautiful about that fire beyond any campsite he'd ever used. It whispered and murmured around the crackling logs as if the thing was alive and a sentient entity waiting to be fed with the nature of the summer night air around them. Dean's body went still until he became aware of the music in his breathing, heartbeat, and even the cells reproducing in his blood.

"Now," murmured Castiel as he began tracing his fingertips over Dean's chest, "state your intentions. Tell the universe exactly what you intend to use tonight's conjured energy to enact."

"Okay. I, uhm, I don't wanna worry so much about what strangers think."

"To what end?" There was something wet on Castiel's fingers like he drew aimless lines on Dean's chest without explanation.

"I wanna be cool with being bi. I wanna hold your hand in public without flinching or pulling away." Dean swallowed, uncertain but feeling his way through it, brushing his dry tongue on the equally dry roof of his mouth. "When people treat you like shit for being a witch, I wanna be able to defend you without thinking I'll out myself. Sometime down the road, I want a better home than the shoebox apartment I've got now and I want you to live there with me." It felt peculiar saying it all out loud but he got stronger as he continued. It all boiled down to one idea. "I'm tired and pissed at myself for thinking being bi makes me a freak. I just want some peace."

"And peace you'll have after tonight," replied Castiel.

The wet lines on Dean's naked chest and stomach smarted in the summer breeze. Slight stinging suggested something painted on him by Castiel's fingertips mixed with something reacting to his skin. The tingling spread beyond those unknown lines. Warm, physical sparkling, and soon addicting, Dean heard a low hum pass through his own throat as his nipples hardened without the benefit of touch. He floated inwardly for a moment, enjoying the unfamiliar sensations--weak, yet present enough to hold his attention.

"Good," Castiel's deep voice floated by, "it's taking effect. Let it happen."

"Hmm?" Languidly, Dean opened his eyes and studied his glowing partner. A new glow shined below and drew his attention to a wet foreign symbol drawn on his torso. "What's this?"

Castiel set a mason jar on the ground filled with the same luminous white-blue liquid. "It's water charged by the last full moon used to draw a symbol of love on your body. Hush now. Don't lose your focus. Follow my lead. Your body will know what to do." Lines around his glimmering eyes deepened with his gentle smile as he took Dean's hands. "This is us, remember. We've done this every way imaginable. We work together as naturally as drawing breath."

Calmly, Castiel drew close enough to Dean for the head of his erect flesh to brush against his hipbone. It took that moment for him to grasp the unnatural sensitivity to any touch that came over him, wondering threw renewed haze, if it was indeed the magick Castiel brought to that circle. Everything in Dean's body pulsed in one delicious roll, pumping blood downward and drawing up his own organ into life. Something reminded him, although he wasn't sure if it was Castiel's outward voice or his internal conscience, but something pushed through his approaching physical desires to say that he must remain focused. No matter how carried away he got, no matter how lost in touch or kiss, he had to keep the purpose in mind. They were doing magick. They were pulling back the veil of uncertainty from Dean's soul and letting his truth come through.

Murmuring edged on his consciousness, as did the trail of fingertips trickling down from pressure points just behind his ears. The sensation teased his neck, over the hard, thick lines of his shoulders, and the hard-earned muscles building up his arms. Heat radiated before him and he sensed Castiel drawing nearer until skin pressed against skin. Lips brushed lips. The heat brought Dean tumbling somewhat closer to Earth again, though his feet never quite found their way to the ground again. The murmuring resumed when Castiel's lips parted from Dean's, making him realize the low, gravelly chanting came from him. The dead language resumed, intensifying the heavy energy encasing them in a protected bubble there in the wilderness.

"Keep yourself focused on the desired outcome," Castiel whispered, breath warm and wispy in his ear.

And then, before Dean could respond, Castiel sank to his knees on the edge of the blanket. His hands followed the shapes of Dean's body as he lowered, rendering him unable to move or speak because he knew what was coming next. If a climax was what he needed, Castiel knew how to make it happen entirely too quick if he chose.

Dean curled his fingers through the messy bits of dark hair around Castiel's ear as the witch peered up at him, hands flowing effortlessly up his thighs. One hand hooked far beneath Dean, so intimately between his legs, and began pressing in a slow rhythm on his soft skin. At the same time, Castiel licked his lips and left an achingly wet path of kisses from the root of Dean's hardened flesh to the tip, making him hiss in the initial shock of new pleasure. Plump, slick lips wrapped around the reddened head and he took as much of Dean into his mouth as he could, teasing the underside with his skilled tongue. Immediately, the tender touch Dean had in his hair became a loose claw. His head tipped back and his swollen lips fell open, emitting lazy rounds of moans, one after the other. Castiel used his body's momentum to rock back and forth. He let Dean pump his mouth--slow at first, but then his body began calling the shots. Just as Castiel had said, yes, his body would know what to do.

"Mmm, Cas," he groaned as he ordered himself to gaze down and watch the witch on his knees taking all of him.

But then, in the moments just before Dean felt the fire coil beginning to build low in his belly, Castiel pulled away, replacing his mouth with the even strokes of a hand too loose to let him have the blinding release. Dean gave a protesting thrust into his fist but it seemed Castiel had something different in mind as his other hand tugged him by the wrist.

It was too hard, took too much brain power, for Dean to argue. He stumbled onto the quilt with the awareness of night air curling around his neglected arousal. Castiel didn't protest when instinct brought his wrist to flicking and fingers wrapped tightly, each stroke bringing him closer. And Dean didn't protest as Castiel bent him over with his bum presented to him, the fire just a few feet away. Snapping logs barely registered in Dean's mind. Flames licked toward the sky and he stared into the bonfire he'd built and Castiel ignited with his magick. Shadows, light, heat, and cold danced together in indistinct shapes. Once in a while, he thought he saw a woman's shape twirling over the fire, arms posed in a circle over her head. Was it the goddess Castiel talked about so much?

All coherent thought got obliterated as Castiel draped himself over Dean's back, folding their bodies together in a gloriously intimate pose. Teeth scraped his shoulder without trying to cause pain. Soft, wet lips marked his skin in downward trails as his tongue tasted the faint flavor of summertime sweat. Dean needed more and tilted his rear toward Castiel in a wordless plea. That knowing tongue found his entrance, flicking gently at first until Dean whimpered and arched like a cat in heat. Castiel readied him, keeping him as wet as he could and sliding into him one slender finger at a time. Each stroke seemed tailor made for his needs and quickly had him fraying around the edges. Dean chewed his lower lip, the faint reminder of his purpose hitting home when the burning logs shifted in the bonfire as it raged.

He was never quite certain of when their bodies joined at last. Maybe his consciousness began lifting out of his body. Sometimes it happened when magick was especially potent, Castiel had once said, but the next thing Dean perceived was his body filled with that witch. A desperate rhythm descended, although he soon realized it was only desperate on his end, pounding back against Castiel. He bit his cheek to keep from swearing and groaning aloud because he wanted to hear the incantations uttered by his own witch.

For Castiel, his legs trembled around Dean and his fingers dug into his hips as he worked their bodies together. Those were the true signs of a man struggling to maintain his pleasure while working out the magick necessary to see his lover safely through the ritual.

Crying out against his will, Dean realized he'd gone past the point of no return. He turned erratic, uncertain of whether he could direct his energy through his blasting release as it approached. Castiel sensed it and his incantations grew louder. A strange burning sensation ripped through Dean's body, yet the physical need had fully taken over, rendering him incapable of stopping to analyze it. The peculiar markings on his chest pulsed with each thrust in turn. As if to keep him on course, one of Castiel's hands wriggled around Dean's body and eagerly rolled his balls through his fingers.

"Your outcome. Your outcome," he pressed Dean gently in tone as his tight grip stroked him harder and harder.

A crack of white light blinded Dean but he couldn't know if it was the second before his toes curled or some magick worked around him. Pain of an internal fire and pleasure brought on by the truth of his love tore through his body. He spiraled into it, bucking and chanting "love" and "Cas" without realizing what he muttered.

And then he fell, seeing the faint outlines of spirits and a bright white figure toss pure energy at him before it all went black.

Renewed light woke Dean but he had no idea of how much time passed until he peeled an eye open. He took stock of himself first. Alone on the damp ground, he sensed the quilt wrapped around his naked body and the fire burned down to ashes. He leaned up but every limb felt heavy and sore as if he'd been out on a bender and woke to one hell of a hangover. Sunlight cut through the trees in the distance though, and that made him wonder just how far into the day he'd slept.

"Cas?" His voice came out raspy and dry.

Sitting up, he spotted Castiel in his jeans, bare chest, and bare feet down by the riverbank. Dean hadn't even noticed the river when they arrived the day before but there he sat with a content smile as he rubbed his cat around her ears. Hera's tail curled back and forth in that motion Dean had come to understand as feline contentment as well.

He stood, gathering the quilt around his naked body, and made his way down to them at the riverbank.

"Morning, love," Castiel said, squinting up at him in the early sunlight.

"How long was I out?"

The witch shrugged noncommittally.

Dean rounded the log serving as Castiel's chair and sat beside him. Awkwardness crept through him, having never been so unhinged as he was during their encounter the previous night. It seemed Castiel picked up on it as he always did. A quiet, strong hand covered his thigh through the quilt.

"She came to you last night, you know," Castiel said casually.

"Who?"

"The goddess. She touched you with her power. You're blessed."

"So...." Dean struggled to make sense of it. "So did it work then? Your spell?"

"I don't know." Flashing a mischievous grin, Castiel glanced over at him as if he knew everything but enjoyed watching Dean try to figure it out on his own. "Give it a try. Let's see. Say it."

"Say what?" Dean scowled a little, not enjoying the teasing.

"Say the thing that scares you the most."

Dean averted his eyes to the river, thinking in silence. He knew what scared him the most and it was beyond declaring his sexuality in public. Giving himself wholly and completely to another person freaked him out beyond all recognition, yet he sensed something like that surrender already happened the previous night. Snippets of memories flickered in his mind but he couldn't quite reach through the veil to touch them.

But when he stopped overthinking it, the words tumbled freely. "I love you, Cas."

A silent smile answered him, though they both stared out over the glittery surface of the river. He kept waiting for the awkwardness to evolve into terror but neither sensation happened. It astounded him. All he felt was the urge to say it again, every day.

"I love you too, Dean." The smile turned to him then, along with a kiss and a knowing chuckle. "And I'd say the spell worked."

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this story, you can read the next part in another collection at http://archiveofourown.org/works/4947277


End file.
